


You Can Love Me, Steve

by WordsAreMusicForTheEyes



Series: Beautiful Little Punk [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Establishing Relationship, F/M, Kissing, Loss of Virginity, Love, Making Love, Orgasm Delay, POV Second Person, Passion, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Sex, Skinny! Steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-17 14:06:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3532082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes/pseuds/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some time after the heated events that took place between you and Steve-you've spent every day trying to coax a lustful reaction from the little punk-</p>
<p>When you finally get what you want, you set out to make it an incredible, sexual experience that Steve will never forget-</p>
<p>But little do you know, it'll be just as enlightening for you...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can Love Me, Steve

**Author's Note:**

> The sequel to 'You Can Watch Me, Steve' is here at long last, my fabulous archivers! ^.^ 
> 
> Fingers crossed it does not disappoint! :D
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! X)
> 
> P.S Please excuse any spelling/general errors :3

Almost a week and a half had passed since the heated encounter between yourself and Steve. Your daily visits have been loaded with palpable sexual tension, inviting looks and salacious innuendos. Whether sat with the fragile, beautiful blond, enjoying amicable conversation, or nursing yet _**another**_   wound inflicted on him by thuggish brutes-you find a way to tease him, to tantalise Steve with what he fantasises about. When dabbing at a split lip with TCP, you stand so close to him, your body presses against his bony shoulders, occasionally leaning forward, in a purposefully exaggerated fashion, to allow him a generous view of your clothed breasts. Or when retrieving a snack or drink from its respective cupboard or fridge shelf, you've gotten into the habit of bending forward quite deliberately- rendering Steve, you like to imagine, utterly helpless to a barrage of potent hormones.

Overall, amidst your companionship, you take delight in sprinkling sexually spurring taunts into your words or actions- to both bring an enchanting hue of red to Steve's hollow cheeks, and to see how far you can push him before he finally snaps. On many an occasion, you've sensed him approaching his boiling point, the point at which he would lose restraint, cast his inhibitions aside and allow you to feel the full impact of suppressed lust. Yet each time, he draws back, calming himself down in some way. It had become your goal to see him lose control.  

"How was work today?" You ask Steve, sat with him at the tiny dining table, your hands curved around a patterned, ceramic mug.

"Passable. Had some annoying customers-not that that's anything unusual. Joys of retail work, huh?" He replies glumly, picking up a small chunk of carrot from a plate of sliced, fresh fruit and vegetables- that the two of you are sharing-and munching on it dolefully.

"I know, it sucks. Still, I hope it hasn't brought your mood down too much?" You reach across and hold his delicate hand. Steve immediately seems to perk up at your touch, and smiles.

"I couldn't possibly be unhappy when I'm with you." He admits, blushing slightly and glancing down-which causes a few strands of hair to fall across his forehead.

"I'm glad you feel that way." You squeeze his hand, carefully, so as not to hurt him. He looks at you with those cornflower blue eyes, total adoration etched into his face. Reaching forward, you cup his cheek, and meet his loving gaze. He turns his head to press a kiss on the heel of your hand, then pauses-catching a scent lingering on your palm.

"Hm, you smell of apple." He notes, chuckling softly. You giggle, and flash a dazzling grin at him.

"Steve, we were having a moment just then." You rebuke him teasingly.

"We'll get another opportunity..." He says, with an apologetic smile.

"Or we could just make another one now?" You suggest, leaning forward-poised above your chair- to kiss him on the lips. Those heavenly, velvety lips of his...your eyelids drop involuntarily, as you savour the softness of his mouth against yours. After a few moments, you retreat from the intimate embrace, an impish smile on your lips.

"Yeah. I'd say we made the most of _**that**_ opportunity." You quip.

 

Steve's hands fly upward, enclosing the sides of your face within them. With surprising strength, he drags you toward him, sealing the sudden demonstration of urgency with a hot-lipped kiss. You card your fingers through his silken hair, moaning quietly against his mouth. In the midst of the fervent embrace, you hear sharp, hitched inhales and exhales through Steve's nose, and feel the bursts of warm air against your skin. Fearful of another asthma attack, you tug yourself away from him and cradle his red face

"You okay? Do you need a moment?"

"[Your Name], I'm okay! I'm just...excited!" He tells you frantically, crushing his mouth against yours once more-as if being parted from your lips is far deadlier than being denied his next breath. Even so, you welcome his mouth with equal zeal.

"Steve..." You gasp when he allows you to break away for barely a second. The shy 'sweetheart' reaches forward and squeezes a breast, groaning into your mouth ravenously. You yelp, more from surprise than discomfort.

"I need you, [Your Name]..." He wheezes.

"....your bedroom...." You suggest, voice almost incoherent because of Steve's reluctance to stop kissing you for a single moment.

That stops him almost immediately. His hand slowly falls from its place upon your breast.

"You mean...?" His eyes widen in suspense, astonishment daubed thickly over his expression. You nod coyly, flashing a wicked smile at him.

"Mm-hm. I've been waiting to see how long it would take you to crack. You lasted longer than I thought. I like to think that bodes well for any activities we partake in, Stevie." You wink raffishly at the blond, who blushes furiously.

"So...you've been waiting...for _**me**_ ?"

"Yeah. I wanted you inside me the second I left the apartment _**that day**_. I was kinda hoping you'd pounce on me sooner, but I'm pleased you were able to hold back long enough. It'll make this moment even more special..."

"Sweet Jesus!" Steve gasps.

"Mmm. It did get to me a couple of nights back though, Stevie-I was having a nice bath...then the hot water reminded me of taking a shower here and all the amazing stuff that happened afterward...those things you said you wanted to do to me, the way you _**looked**_ at me, and that absolutely perfect moment when you came on my hand-" You rise from your seat, and carefully slide onto Steve's lap. You see his tiny chest heaving, as he sucks in as much as air as his poor lungs are able to. Your hands move to his waist, massaging that beautiful, skinny torso of his. With an unflinching gaze, you meet his eyes, parting your lips seductively.

"And...oh God, Steve, I couldn't help it-I started touching myself thinking about you. It felt _**so**_   good I couldn't stop myself from moaning for you when I came!" You say heatedly, running your hands all over him, exploring every possible inch of him. "We're going to you're bedroom. Now." You command.

Somehow, despite bumping into almost every single items of furniture and stumbling chaotically, you reach Steve's room in double time...

 

You collapse onto the bed-the mattress sagging slightly from the impact, before rebounding-and pull the skinny blond forward, causing him to lose balance and fall on top of you. Sliding a hand around the back of his head, you're able to push his face down to greet your lips. You wonder if, perhaps, you're handling him too roughly-but then it occurs to you that Steve is more than capable of expressing any concerns, and that he wouldn't want to be treated like a fragile glass sculpture. He still craves the same intensity of passion, the same lust-filled ferocity, that a strongly built, healthier man would. You wrap a leg around his waist, locking your bodies together, and rake your fingers through his dark gold, dishevelled hair.

Steve has to break the kisses at sporadic intervals to steady his breathing, but each time, he returns with ardour. He goes so far as to plant kisses on your hot throat, and graze his peachy lips along your jaw. Impatiently, your hands fly to the hem of his t-shirt and begin dragging it up, exposing his tiny waist. Having helped him overcome the barrier of his body image, you're delighted when he takes the initiative to sit up and pull the t-shirt off the rest of the way. He tosses it aside and returns to the sweet paradise of your lips. Like a keen adventurer, your hands travel along his back-over every bump of his spine, every inch of soft, warm skin. In return, he moves a hand down, slipping his fingers beneath the hem of your own top and questing up to find your breasts.

"You sure are confident these days, Stevie..." You say breathlessly.

"I feel like a real guy when I'm with you, is probably why." He admits.

"You've always been a real guy. I just helped you along the way to discovering that." You tell him, eyelids fluttering shut as proceeds to smatter a flurry of kisses over your neck and cheek, his nimble fingers brushing across the uncovered flesh of your breasts.

"Then, in that case, I feel _**special**_ when I'm with you." He says, those azure eyes gazing deeply into your own. Your heart swells to the point of bursting with affection for this beautiful little punk.

"I love you, Steven Rogers." You tell him, hands cupping the sides of his narrow face, your thumbs sweeping in miniscule arcs over his cheeks. A beaming smile spreads across his face, and his eyes seem to glint.

"I love you, [First Name] [Last Name]." He replies, sealing the declaration with a kiss.

 

Aware of Steve's evident keeness to fondle your chest, you pull your t-shirt off, throwing it to the side to join Steve's. His face seems to light up at the revealing of your body, and his hands sweep over your stomach and the material of your bra. You see, from the rapt gaze in his eyes, the sexually potent young man and the appreciative artist both awaken. You arch your back, and twist your arms around to unfasten the clasp of your bra. Steve seems tentative, but then soon happily takes matters into his own hands, slowly removing the bra from your chest-relishing the prolonged anticipation. His lips part, perhaps involuntarily, and he discards the undergarment on the end of the bed. He spends a few moments massaging your breasts, sweeping a fingetip over each nipple.

With every slight variation on the ministrations, he glances up at to look at your expression-to make sure he's pleasing you.

"Stevie...could you use your mouth?" You ask softly, eager to feel those silken lips. A tiny glimpse of diffidence passes over his features, but he soon nods.

"Sure thing." He agrees, returning his attention to your chest. You hold your breath as he opens his mouth, closing the space between it and a breast. When he closes his lips around the nipple and areola, you give an indrawn hiss. Steve's eyes flicker up, so wide, so blue-worried that he's done something wrong.

"Feels good, Stevie." You assure him, stroking his hair lovingly. The blond slowly, and carefully, tugs at the delicate skin with his lips, to stimulate you. Sensations rush straight to the place between your legs, to join the already pooling heat. Steve then starts to lap lightly at your nipple with his tongue-he never drags it across, he doesn't repeat the motion until it becomes a dull caress. It's as though he instinctively knows to perform the tiny action eratically, to leave you yearning for that barely significant contact. Each tiny lick is a gift you find yourself waiting for and cherishing when it's rewarded to you.

"S-Stevie..." You whimper. Anxious to touch him in any way, you slide a hand down to the front of his jeans. You deftly manage to unbutton them, and yank the zipper down. Steve doesn't respond, instead carrying on with showing your breasts the tender care he seems to be good at giving.

However, when you push your hand into stretched confines of his boxers, feeling the solid certainty of his excitement-he withdraws his mouth.

"Oh...n-no, don't, [Your Name]. I'll not be able to last long at all if you do anything." He says, fretfully.

"Steve, you've...not been with anyone before. Your _**first time**_ isn't going to last long no matter what you do. Just let me touch you. Let me make you remember today for as long as you live. Please?" You flash a calmly beseeching expression at him, and he seems helpless to refuse.

"Okay. Okay, [Your Name]." He agrees, relaxing, and returning his mouth to your breasts. You delve deeper into his boxer shorts, and wrap your fingers around his hardened shaft. The contact makes him shudder and gasp. Holding Steve's length has the heat between your legs turn into a fierce burning of need.

"Stevie...you're so hard for me..." You moan, slowly letting your hand follow along the slight curvature of his erection, up to his slick head. If touching his pre-come soaked slit wasn't enough of a gift, hearing soft, vulnerable little whimpers escape with his hitched breaths is like the greatest birthday present you could ask for. He looks at you, eyes wide open, his mouth hanging open. If it had been anyone else, the expression would have been rather gormless-but on Steve, it only makes you want to 'toy' with him more.

 

"Well, look what we have here...you're as wet for me as I am for you, huh? Mmm, you're perfect, Stevie...my perfect, beautiful, stubborn punk." You croon, taking his foreskin between thumb and index finger and-at a torturously slow pace-sliding it up his shaft. Steve groans, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Yeah? You like that?" You tease salaciously, building a steady rhythmn of sliding his foreskin back and forth, occasionally stretching your thumb up to smear his pre-come along his length. A dusty pink flush floods across his ivory skin, and the tiniest trace of perspiration glistens on his pores.

"Oh-oh my God!" He wheezes. You feel his skinny hips start to rock in tandem with your skilled fingers. A sumptuously filthy, wet clicking is just audible enough, escaping from the enclosing material of his boxers. You know you're own womanly juices are seeping, as you yearn for the relief of friction against your clitoris and to be filled, but you focus intently on creating an unforgettable experience for Steve. No deed of yours goes unappreciated, as the blond immediately begins to pepper your mouth, chest and stomach with tiny kisses. He glances at you repeatedly, with those adoring eyes, utterly bewitched by your lovliness.

The head of his penis starts to feel swollen, the slit leaking almost as soon you swipe away the wetness. Steve is close to orgasm; the perspiration has glued together strands of his hair, the blue of his irises have vanished beneath the dilated pools of his pupils, and he's panting raggedly. You brush the fingers of your free hand through his hair, a tender smile on your lips.

"Do you want to come, Steve?" You ask, in a sultry tone.

"Uh...I-I...want to...but..." He can barely string a sentence together, his throat sounding constricted.

"But? Worried about making a mess in your undewear?" You inquire playfully.

"Wanted...wanted to be...inside you..."

"Oh, but you will be, soon."

"I feel like...being inside you now-"

"Not yet. But why don't we make a deal?" You stop gliding his foreskin back and forth, and wrap your fingers around the base of his penis in a firm grip to delay his release. "Orgasm for me now...and I promise to orgasm _**hard**_   when you're inside me. Right now, touching you is making me want you so badly it **hurts**. Trust me, when I'm really-" You kiss his the corner of his mouth "- _ **really**_ -" You plant a kiss on his lips "-really desperate for your cock...it'll be  _ **so**_ much more fun for the **both** of us."

"O-okay." Steve sounds positively exuberant. You resume stimulating him, and he instinctually continues thrusting languidly into your hand. His soft whimpers turn to heavenly, throaty moans-the sound has you nearly achieving blissful satisfaction yourself, without even having been touched.

 "Remember when you had your finger in me? Remember how it felt when I came?"

"How could I forget?" Steve pants.

"Imagine that. On _**this**_ **-** " You punctuate your words by curling your hand around Steve's wet shaft, and sliding it up and down, making sure your grasp it tight but not uncomfortable. Steve's mouth falls open, emitting a silent cry, his chest heaves upward, and his narrow hips jerk forward as he's plunged into orgasmic ecstacy.

 

The blond lowers himself down, and wraps his thin arms around in a compassionate embrace-your bare chests pressing together. He's inhaling and exhaling deeply, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You gently remove your slick-covered hand from his boxers, and rest it gingerly on his waist-your other hand tracing indistinguishable shapes across his back. You turn your head and kiss his temple lightly, hoping he's not been too fatigued.

Steve, then, startles you by pushing himself up off the bed with surprising athleticism, and kneels between your covered legs. With zeal, he starts undoing your jeans, his beautiful face a picture of pure determination.

"Hm-mm...Stevie, where's this burst of energy come from?" You query him, a bemused smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"I want to make you feel good." He tells you, tugging down the waistband of your jeans. You raise your hips to assist him, enabling him to remove the denim garment from your legs. Steve sets the jeans aside, and brushes his hands over your bare thighs and calves-eyes drinking in every detail. His artist's fingers skim their way over your inner thighs and pause at your underwear. He quickly looks to you, procuring your permission to remove them.

"You can take them off, Steve."

A fleeting smile dances on his mouth, before he promptly turns his attention back to your underwear.

"[Your name]...you said...you were wet me for me...earlier on..."

"I still am." You rally seductively.

"How...um...wet are you?" Steve inquires tremulously.

"Ridiculously." You reply, writhing sensuously before him, hinting that he needs to satiate your ravenous sexual appetite. Steve slowly removes your underwear, looking both transfixed and scandalised at the gradual exposure of your small thatch of hair and your vulva; soaked in the wet sheen of your aching concupiscence. As soon as the cool air attacks the rampant heat between your legs, you slide the hand-covered in Steve's pre-come-down to your delicate parts, biting your lower lip and making a quiet, needy moan. Your other hand toys with your breasts, alternating between the two.

"Oh no...that's for me to do." Steve benignly removes your hands from between your legs, holding it in his own. He kisses each knuckle, before making the incredibly bold move of pressing a kiss against you wet lower lips. Without thinking, you groan and curl your toes excitedly, legs seizing up momentarily in anticipation. Steve stands up, dragging his jeans and boxers down, still savouring the sight between your legs. He then returns to the bed and crawls forward, holding himself up above you and resting his upper body weight on his hands and elbows. You welcome him with loving arms, wrapping them around his waist, looking up at his nervous yet thoroughly jubilant expression.

 

"Would you mind...are you okay to do this? Am I alright to go inside?" He asks sweetly.

"Yes. Definitely." You say. He smiles, but then almost immediately looks worried.

"Wait- I need a condom...I don't...I don't have any. Bucky probably has a box of them in his bedside drawers, I'll see if I can find one-" Steve makes to get up off of you, but you pull him back.

"It's fine." You tell him.

"No, we need to use to protection-"

"I'm on birth control." You inform him.

"But...what if-" He sounds embarrassed.

"Oh, Steve, I've always had protected sex before and I get check-ups-I've not got anything. I just thought, with it being your **_very first_** time, you should at least get to experience the sensation of being inside a woman without anything in the way."

"Oh. Oh right. Um. I....are you absolutely certain, [First Name]?"

"Completely. Come closer, Stevie, I wanna hold you." You wind your arms around him, as he positions himself on top of you again. The blond gazes at you as though you were the most stunning of star-lit skies, the most enchanting of sunsets, the most breath-takingly picturesque of horizons. You both just look deeply into one another's eyes, the world around you having no importance. Just the two of you, intertwined, soon to be connected in one of nature's most enticing and yet most beautiful ways. The 'cosmic' intensity of the moment is soon lightened, by a demure query from Steve-

"Um, [Your Name]...I'm sorry about this but...I'm not really sure how to, um...y'know...get inside the right way. Could you...?" He stammers bashfully, looking so innocent, you can't help but giggle.

"S'okay, Stevie. You're not going to be Casanova just yet." You reassure him kindly, taking hold of his erect length and steadily easing it inside of yourself.

 

You shudder and moan gratefully at the much-needed penetration, filling you to utter satisfaction.

Steve, on the other hand, gives an inward gasp, like he's been dunked in a tub of freezing cold water. His expression, however, is that of someone who's been sent hurtling into a world of magical wonder.

"J-Jesus, Mary and Joseph..." He groans.

Steve has clearly 'found the end of the rainbow', judging by his look of endearing delight, from being enveloped in your warm, eager passage, the walls hugging his length responsively.

"Oh-oh my God, [Your Name]...oh G-Chri...oh **fuck**!" He cusses, for what must be the first time in his entire life.

"My, my, Stevie Rogers-does pussy give you a potty-mouth?" You tease impishly.

"Unghh..." He grunts, sucking air into his lungs, reaching down to squeeze the base of his shaft. Apparently, just being inside of you is testing his fortitude-but as ever, the feisty, stubborn little blond refuses to let that deter him. "So...do I just...go in and out?"

"Yeah, pretty much, but mix things up a little. Y'know, different speeds, gentle or a little rough. Also, if you can try and rub against my clit-that would be _**deeply**_   appreciated... " You say. "Don't push yourself too much, though. As time goes on, we'll find out more about one another's bodies, the things that stimulate us and make us feel good. We'll teach each other. For now, though, just do whatever you can."

"I don't know if I can bring you any real pleasure with what I'm capable of, at this moment in time." Steve remarks, disappointedly.

"I highly doubt that. Have a little faith in yourself, Stevie. Just having you like this feels good." You gesture at his length, hidden inside you. He smiles shyly at you, before questioning you again-

"How will I know if you're actually, _**genuinely**_ enjoying the whole thing?"

"Believe me...you'll know. I'll make sure of that." You cast a knowing look at the blond. "If I'm not enjoying the sex or something you may be doing, I'll tell you. Same goes for you, Stevie, if you don't enjoy something-please tell me! God knows lack of communication is the death of a healthy relationship-never mind a sexual one."

 

"Are we...in a relationship?" Steve inquires, cautiously, as if broaching the prospect of being a couple will somehow repulse you.

"I guess we are, yeah. I mean, we've been friends for a while. There's strong mutual attraction. Hell, we've even professed our love for one another. Seriously, at this point, I don't see why not!"

"Wow...so...you and me, we're-"

"Boyfriend and girlfriend. Dating. Whatever you want to call it-yes. Yes, we are. If that's what you'd like, too?"

"Definitely! Oh wow...[Your Name]..." Steve gushes adorably.

"I love seeing you so happy." You stroke his cheek.

"It's impossible not to be happy when you're with me." He cranes his neck down, to lock your mouths together. "I love you." Is all he whispers into your ear, before setting a steady pace of thrusting in and out of you.

 

The sensation is truly spectacular, as his shaft coasts along your walls-each nerve ending in your passage singing it's pleasure-inducing praise of the friction. You seize hold of Steve's jutting hip, and moan softly to let it be known to him that you're relishing this gratification he's offering. He even succeeds in lowering his pelvis in such a way that it massages against your engorged, throbbing clitoris. A coil of greatly savoured tension tightens inside your passage. Every thrust, every undulation against your clitoris, every lick and suckle Steve affords your nipples; all of these send a sweet wave of amassing ecstacy to your loins, tightening the knot of orgasmic tension-now growing, waiting eagerly in the walls of your passage, for its rapturous moment of release.

Steve's efforts are worthy of an Olympian gold medal; sweat trickles down his face, his fragile body is blotchy, his breaths heavy and rattling with the physical strain. He keeps going, making your satisfaction the ultimate goal of this sexual journey on which he has embarked upon. There are brief moments when you wonder if he has an inhaler nearby, but then he'll kiss you deeply, passionately-like the Earth will stop spinning and life will cease to exist if he doesn't feel your lips against his. You automatically spread your legs out further, as if doing so will help him bury deeper into you, filling you at your core.

Gazing up at him with bleary eyes, you keen and mewl for him to keep going, to give you what you've desperately craved, lusted for, _**ached for**_. He stares back at you, groaning and exhaling loud, throaty sounds of nearing pleasure; his focus is unwavering, looking at you like you're some glorious revelation.

"You're...you're doing so good, Stevie...you're so good..." You praise him, tipping your head back as a moan tears its way out of you, and wrapping your legs around his waist. Judging by a sudden movement between your bodies, he's had to grip the base of his shaft _**again**_ to stop himself from tumbling into an orgasm.

"You're...makin'...this pretty difficult, [Your Name]..." He can barely speak coherently.

"Your fault..." You retort, one hand moving to clutch at the quilt, the fingers of the other digging into Steve's flesh. The orgasm growing inside your passage is clawing to be freed, to give you the blissful release as it escapes.

"Promise...promise you'll look me in the eye...if you come..."

"I will...not long to wait, Steve-" You gasp. Steve seems to gather what strength he has, and pounds into you with unrelenting fervour-going so far inside of you, the both of you are almost as one person.

You quickly find yourself reaching your plateau, hovering on the fine line between extended, delectable agony and a sensational, endorphin-rush. Your hands now clutch at Steve's bony shoulders, gripping tighter than you probably should-but he doesn't utter a word of complaint. Incapable of emitting any noise at this point, because you're so intent on holding onto the edge of your plateau for as long as is possible, you gape up at Steve, body shaking uncontrollably. You desperately hold back your orgasm, squeezing the walls of your vagina, denying yourself instant 'escape' from this fantastical torment.

The sensation you're witholding multiplies, turning into something indescribable, something ferocious-and clinging onto this feeling has you vocalising _**loudly**_. You let out a series of unintelligible shrieks for Steve to decipher, legs collpasing flat onto the bed as your bone density seems to turn to jelly. You arch your back up, until it _**hurts**_ and look Steve directly in the face-

With a shaky cry, you let him know he's achieved his goal. Your walls contract furiously in the frenzied bliss, turning you into a delighted and exhausted human puddle. The very second your walls begin clamping down, Steve stares into your eyes and unleashes a magnificent, throaty raw yell of pleasure, spilling his warm release into you with every orgasmic throb of his penis. Steve collpases on top of you, greatly entitled to a rest at this point in time. His body is scalding hot, and drenched in perspiration from the exertion. Neither of you speaks. All you do is hold one another, floating in your post-coital langour.

 

You both lay on your side, gazing sleepily at one another, languidly stroking each other's backs. The odd, soft kiss is exchanged, the occasional pushing aside of a sticky strand of hair; but nothing particularly intense. The looks speak a thousand words, and perform a thousand actions.

You're both indubitably content, and very much adored.

Steve places his hand, palm facing upward, on the bed, between his face and yours. You rest your own on top of it, curl your fingers down, interlacing them between his.

"I love you, [Your Name]." He speaks softly, eyes searching your face.

"I love you, Steve. I really love you."

 

It's a day neither of you will ever forget...

**Author's Note:**

> And thus ends the Reader/Skinny Steve fics (for the time being at least).
> 
> Thank you to all my fellow skinny Steve fans for reading this fic, and for just being your fan-tab-ulous selves! :D


End file.
